


Isla de Muerta

by MedeaV



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, BuckyNat week, Buckynat mini bang, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, POV Natasha Romanov, Stranded, Suicidal Thoughts, lonely island
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedeaV/pseuds/MedeaV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Pirate AU] Natasha finds herself on a lonely island (after being thrown off the ship by a bunch of pirates, but she'll leave out the less dignifying parts) without the slightest chance of getting away. Luckily, she is equipped with both a gun and a very useful knife.</p><p>As Natasha soon discovers, she is not alone on the island. The good news is that her cohabitant already knows a lot about making a living there.</p><p>The bad news is that he wishes for nothing more than to kill himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isla de Muerta

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so please tell me about any errors you find.
> 
> The art was made by the gorgeus ria-rin- check her out on tumblr.

 

_Well, that could have gone worse._

 

Natasha kicked the sand at her feet as she stamped out of the water. Was it really necessary to always see but the positive side? Facts were that she just got thrown out on an empty island. Facts were that she had nothing but her skin and a revolver with a single shot. Far from helpful.

Swearing, Natasha rearranged her red hair under the hat that was soaked by the salty water. Facts were also that she still had a knife hidden in her left boot and that the island looked pretty comfortable to make a living of it. But right now, Natasha just wanted to be pissed off by these sexist assholes who still thought a woman on their ship would bring them bad luck, flees, a sea monster or whatever stupid paranoia they could fall into. Even after two months of successfully robbing the wealthy and careless! Probably the best months of their lives. Pack of fearsome cocksuckers without a trace of economical intelligence.

Thinking of their hypocritical talk of freedom and equality gave Natasha just the right anger to convert into energy. She wasn't going to die on this island, she hadn't died in the worst quarters of Havana and she hadn't died robbing dozens of ships with that fucking bunch of pirates. No way this stupid island was going to be her end.

How she was going to do that was still open to experimentation, but the first step probably was to find out what she had to deal with. Meaning combing the whole island which seemed a reasonably big task.

So Natasha walked over to the tropical forest. Coconuts beyond measure, but way too high to reach. Waiting for them to fall down by themselves would tease her impatience and her stomach.

Oddly, almost no fruits were lying on the ground.

However, drinkable water was on the top of her list. If she could find a fountain, that would make her life so much easier. She had to go for it.

That was when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes. Something black behind the trees? Natasha quickly grabbed her pistol and spun around. The sudden voice still startled her.

"Now, isn't that a sweet surprise?"

Natasha grabbed her weapon more firmly and waited. Male voice. Probably stronger than her, so she should be careful. But she couldn't shoot him until she saw him.

What the fuck he did on her deserted island was beyond her, but that didn't matter right now.

Natasha pointed her gun in the vague direction of the voice and there was another movement. Dark hair?

The man stepped out behind a palm tree. He was tall, had grown out brown hair that looked pretty careless and he was grinning like a fool. Reasonably enough, Natasha made a step back and aimed at his chest.

"If you're going to tell me to leave this sweet little island, well, I was here first, lad", the stranger pointed out. He sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"How about you tell me what the fuck you're doing here?", Natasha shot back, trying not to sound weak. "Before I shoot you."

The stranger stared at her like she had grown a second head. She was already considering drastic measures when the gaping creature found back to his speech. "You're a goddamn woman?"

Oh right, her disguise. Natasha pulled of her hat, revealing her long red curls that fell all over her back, all the while not taking her eyes of the man. He may look too taken back to do anything, but she was certainly not going to count on it.

After another moment of staring, the stranger settled on a mocking bow that brought him a bit too close for Natasha's tastes. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, my lady. Now, if you please, may I-"

"Shut the fuck up?", Natasha snapped. "You can take your politeness and shove it up your ass. Now tell me your damn name."

The stranger looked beamed by her language but she couldn't care less. "How comes a lady who swears like a sailor and who has a knife hidden in her boot lands on this little piece of shit in the middle of nowhere?"

Natasha frowned and raised her gun again. "How do you know about the knife?"

"Please, it's not that hard", the stranger, who still hadn't shared his name, retorted smugly. A sudden urge to shoot him ran through her veins.

"You should be aware that I'm the one with a gun", Natasha remarked sharply. Silently, she pleaded to all known gods that the water had dried by now and that she wasn't handing out empty threats.

"Yeah, and I'm the one who looks to get shot, so that seems a good deal to me?"

Automatically, Natasha lowered her weapon. Maybe he could have taken advantage of that, but she couldn't stop herself. She had in no way expected to meet a suicidal, but seriously, how could she have expected that?

Her gaze sharpened at the man in front of her. He looked worn down, sure, dirty and that sort of stuff, but not like a madman. Just how could anybody really _want_ to get killed?

That was when Natasha noticed his left arm.

She bit her tongue to keep herself from cursing. _Holy shit._ This might change her point of view.

Despite the salty crust and the mud all over it- that fucking arm was _gleaming._ As in _like a treasure._

Okay, that was a little too much, but it still peaked her thief interest. Which was ridiculous because how was she going to detach it from him? However. That thing looked like a miracle.

"Now, now. Why should I kill you?", Natasha heard herself say, part of her still wondering over that crazy arm thing. She had always been quick to think on her feet, a quality that had saved her life multiple times. "After you told me that you already know how to make a living on this little piece of nothing?"

The man groaned and rolled his eyes. "Darn. That sounds like me... landing on a deserted island with a beautiful lady and a gun and both are of no use."

"I'll show you how I'll be of goddamn use", Natasha declared and put her gun in its holster. "By keeping you from blowing your brains out of your head."

The man continued to stare at her incredulously. Like her intentions weren't perfectly clear and logical. "Gotta name, darling?", she asked while lowering her belt, of course overly careful about the gun attached to it.

Which, of course, earned her an even more irritated look. "James", the stranger answered slowly. "And why the heck are you undressing yourself?"

"Well, I might have swum a little mile to get to this sweet island", Natasha replied, tossing her vest and her blouse over her head. "Which might result in the fact that my clothes are dripping wet. Stop staring or I shoot you."

A coy grin returned to the stranger's- James' face. "Wouldn't mind." At least he looked away. Of course, modesty was a concept rather foreign to Natasha, given her background.

She put of everything except for her linen underwear, her boots, her belt, her shirt. Just because a poor soul happened to be on the same random island as her, would that change her behavior? No.

"If you put your clothes on the ground, the sand will get everywhere", James remarked, not-so-subtly checking her out. "I suggest you hang them."

Natasha stared at him a moment for his word choice, then for scaring the shit out of him with her murder look. Sadly, it didn't work on suicidals. She was okay with it though if he stared at her body. Most men did (given that she wasn't disguised as a man at the time).

"Lead the way", Natasha replied, gripping her knife and her gun more firmly. James groaned again but averted his eyes from her and walked away.

 

* * *

 

"You didn't tell me your name", James stated as they sat around the campfire. They had cracked some of the coconuts he had collected by throwing them down on a rock and though Natasha wouldn't easily admit it, that had been fun. Sort of.

She leaned back and put her hands in the sand. Despite not putting her clothes there, it got everywhere, rubbed her skin and her feet and even got into her eyes. Annoying but inevitable. "You didn't ask."

James sighed. "You really don't give anything away, do you?" Lowering his gaze, he added: "Except for your clothes."

Natasha snorted. She had dressed up again as soon as her clothes were dry enough but saying that she cared was largely exaggerated. "Not like I know what got you on this island, right?"

James' eyes darkened, making clear that he didn't want to talk about it. He stared back into the flickering flames.

"Natalia", she offered after a while. For the sake of whatever.

James looked up and met her eyes. "That sounds Russian."

"My father was Russian", Natasha replied shrugging. Just a relative untruth. Nothing major. Like everything else.

"That explains why you dress up as a man", James said as if that was logical, "and carry weapons and talk like a butcher."

"What do you want, it's the blood", Natasha gave back, wondering whether the butchers she had met had cursed all that much. "Besides, any good plans on not bathing in sand tonight?"

"Nope", was the only answer she got. The figure on the other side of the fire had obviously laid down.

Natasha pressed the gun and the knife against her chest. She wouldn't let him get them and put an end to his life. She needed his support.

"Why didn't you just starve?"

James sat up again and stared at her fiercely like something was seriously wrong with her. "It's not that easy", he explained slowly. "You start eating again automatically. And it's a fucking torture."

"Gods, you really tried", Natasha commented. She hadn't realized how serious he actually was about it. So she made a decision.

There was no answer anymore.

 

* * *

 

James must have understood that something was off as soon as he saw Natasha's suppressed grin. Really, it couldn't mean anything good. It was all in the way he observed her carefully.

"Guess what I did tonight", she said, brushing the sand off her feet. Well, trying at least.

James watched her warily while he washed his face. "As long as it's nothing improper which I totally wouldn't mind?"

Natasha ignored him. "Well, I figured I needed to bring that gun out of your reach." Significant pause. "So I buried it."

James stared at her like she had completely lost it. Then he took two steps back. Natasha tried to remain calm even if she feared the outburst.

It came in the form of him stepping forward and grabbing her hands which fucking startled her. His hands were still wet and the left one, was that really fucking metal? It felt like it. Holy crap.

James looked at the dirt under her fingernails, the bruises that only partially came from digging and mostly from living, then straight into her eyes like she couldn't be serious but obviously was. "You really buried it."

"Yes", Natasha affirmed, trying not to move her gaze from his eyes and especially not to his arm. He had blue to grey eyes and the way he stared at her and didn't let go of her hands was beginning to feel awkward.

"You're a strange woman", James stated, sounding like he didn't really believe himself, like he just couldn't. Then he put her hands back in her lap and walked off.

 

* * *

 

"James."

He didn't turn around. He obviously didn't want to see anybody, let alone talk. Normally, Natasha would have left, but she needed his help now.

"I need to know what else I can eat. Not just the coconuts."

James didn't seem willing to help. Actually, he didn't seem willing to do anything. Natasha felt like kicking him in the face but settled on a joke instead. "Or are you so depressed because you have eaten nothing but coconuts?"

It didn't go well with him. Of course it didn't. Natasha really missed her gun when she saw his angry eyes. At least she had her knife in case he got aggressive. "Really. We can't eat coconuts all the time."

James growled and it shouldn't scare her like it did. She shouldn't feel like prey when he finally put his eyes on her.

"You gotta get in your pretty head that I don't care for what we eat. I don't care if we starve. I don't care for anything."

It made Natasha angry. Fine, he didn't care because all he wanted was to die, but that didn't mean anything to her. Her life.

She felt her face go cold and put on her best authoritative tone. "You made that pretty clear. But know what? I don't care. Because I'm going to live, to survive. And I do care for my life. So don't give me that crap and just fucking answer my question."

Maybe it didn't help her point that she walked away directly afterwards but he made her so angry. Irrationally.

So Natasha went to throw some coconuts on a rock. That did indeed help.

 

* * *

 

James came back a few hours later, with some roots and some fruit. He didn't speak while he threw it at her feet.

"Want some?", Natasha offered while devouring the banana. It tasted like heaven. James watched her but didn't say a word.

Natasha continued to consider to sink her teeth into the root thing. Of course she knew that she couldn't eat it like that but she was waiting for him to tell her so.

"You need to cook it", James finally sighed. "Can't eat it just like that."

Now that trick paid off. Natasha examined the root, considering. "Now how do I cook anything on this lonely island?"

There was silence and then James buried his face in his knees, sighing. "You can't stop taking, can you?"

"Nope", Natasha confirmed and got up, walked past him, ruffling his long brown hair. "Now get up and help me."

 

* * *

 

Soon, they were about to make a pot out of some sort of stone that was surprisingly soft. Still a stone, but you could almost press your finger into it. Especially with these strange gleaming fingers of his.

"Well, I feel the urge to address that topic", Natasha began. "So, in case you haven't noticed, your left hand looks absolutely like it's covered in metal."

James stopped and looked at it. "Could say that. It is made out of metal."

No further explanation was given, so Natasha stared at him without getting any reaction. "But you can move it. Obviously."

"Yeah", James agreed nonchalantly. "You know, it's the whole arm."

Pulling up his sleeve a bit revealed even more gleaming metal that caught Natasha's eye. There were little palates that moved and whirred softly.

She had two questions and decided to go with the less painful first. "Where on this goddamn earth do you get a thing like that?"

Again the darkened eyes. "Don't know."

Now, if Natasha had been more of a sensible woman, she would have stopped asking. But as things stood, she didn't care. "And what happened to the real arm?"

James sighed, then turned numb. "Well, I lost it, obviously?"

"Little knowledge of past events usually comes with extensive alcohol consumption", Natasha remarked. James stared at her.

She grabbed the slowly forming bowl and hammered on it with the blunt side of the knife. Working with the stone wasn't easy but she had expected worse. "Can I touch it? The arm, I mean."

 

If Natasha had looked up, she would have probably seen him stare at her. But as she continued working, she only noticed the whirring of the metal arm.

She raised her eyes and met his. Then she as well extended her hand and took hold of the metal.

Natasha had touched it before, when he had grabbed her hand, but now she could really feel it. Cold, despite the sun, smooth, hard and strong. Without any warning, she hit it with her other hand. Immediately, he made a fist and almost broke her hand.

"Why the hell do you keep doing that?", James asked incredulously, pulling back his hand.

"Research", Natasha replied with a shrug. She lifted the bowl from the ground and offered it to him. "It needs the finishing touch now."

"Is research the reason that got you on this island?", James asked, taking the bowl automatically.

"Not really", Natasha gave back. She gripped her knee and started rocking back and forth. "Rather the desire for a slightly different lifestyle plus a certain amount of carelessness."

“Wouldn’t have noticed”, James responded with a nod to her legs. “Let me guess, somebody considered your ‘slightly different lifestyle’ completely inappropriate?”

“How do you know”, Natasha snorted.

James grinned as he worked on the bowl. “And your carelessness will get the better of you. Like giving away your gun. Not a wise move, given your situation.”

“Please”, Natasha deadpanned. “You didn’t even really look at me when I was running naked around the beach. No way you’re going to pull anything off.” James didn’t really react, so she continued watching him. “Besides, still got my knife.”

“Yeah”, James confirmed eerily calm.

Natasha watched him work for a while. He could mold the stone so easily, with his metal fingers. So strong.

She had to keep herself from plotting a revenge plan against that bunch of coward pirates, or against some wealthy filth or against everybody who ever treated her badly and got away with it. But really, so much could be accomplished with this powerful arm.

"I was working with some pirates", Natasha explained casually. "Therefor the disguise. We were sailing and robbing the ships of the rich. Pretty successfully, to be honest."

James looked up but continued working with scary accuracy. "Not very wise. Pirates don't like to share. They rather throw people over board."

"Well, that was not the problem", Natasha gave back. "I made a mistake. A... stupid mistake. Turns out pirates don't react well when they find a woman on their ship.”

James rolled his eyes at her sarcasm but then grinned. “You know, they could have done worse than throw said woman out on a lonely island.”

Natasha grinned as well because oh my god, she must have forgotten how naive she looked. “I was aiming two loaded guns at them. Nobody was so keen on giving up their life.”

James chuckled deep in his throat. “I understand. Pirates are no soldiers so nobody wanted to take the brunt of it? Still, you had to keep your distance because you had only long distance weapons. They pushed you out only by coming closer.”

“I jumped.” Well, only for the honor of it. “So I could at least keep one gun while losing the other.”

James grinned again. “Shame. We could have killed us both and wouldn’t have to sit around and wait for death.”

Natasha growled but it was only show. “If you weren’t making the one thing that’s going to make my life on this island better, I would punch you.”

James’ eyes told her he didn’t take her serious. “That’s why you’re telling me stories of your life? To keep me nice and working?”

Natasha kept her face blank. “Maybe. And it’s not like you couldn’t take advantage from that.”

That only got her an eye roll. “I don’t want advantage.”

“Fine, but I do”, Natasha replied without missing a beat. Seriously, who didn’t want to have an advantage? Oh, right. Suicidals. “Why don’t you tell me where you got your military knowledge from?”

James rolled his eyes again, realizing that with his answers, he had given away more than he wanted. “Not a pretty story.”

Natasha put one leg over the other. “Do I look like I want to hear pretty stories?”

She didn’t get him to look at her, as intended. He just stared at his fingers. “I was a soldier in another life. Had a good friend. Then I got very drunk. Ugly things happened. The end.”

Natasha watched him silently. The soldier story made sense to her, but the last part? People turned stupid when they got drunk, aggressive maybe, but nothing really dangerous. Nothing that would justify his reactions.

“Stop it”, James groaned. “I feel like you’re looking right into my head.”

Natasha leaned back. “What would I see?”

“Nothing pretty”, James assured her, took the bowl and walked away.

 

* * *

 

It took them a few attempts to work out the trick with the pot. The difficult point was how to attach it to the sticks they had rammed into the sand (after a few thinner ones broke off, of course). Several burnt improvised ropes and James fishing the bowl out of the fire with his metal hand (sighing, of course, but otherwise pretty cooperative) later, they actually ended up with something halfway edible.

By then, it was so late that they immediately laid down and fell asleep next to the fire.

Natasha only awoke to the sound of ripping cloth. Cursing her light sleep, she turned to the other side and tried to ignore the sounds that the other members of the crew were making. Somebody was talking, obviously in panic. God, she wanted her own cabin.

Then Natasha realized that she was no longer on that goddamn pirate ship and that she immediately had to find out where these noises came from. She shot up, startling the other person and causing him to do the same.

"Where am I?", the man- James asked. Natasha could hear the fear in his voice but all she could do was rubbing her eyes and trying to get her head straight.

"Hell, if I knew."

That didn't really calm James, he tensed, ready to jump every second. Natasha waved her hand at him, trying to keep him down.

"Hey, don't run away. We're on a goddamn deserted island somewhere north of Caracas. And every place that's more than a few feet away from the fire is freaking cold."

James stared at her but didn't move. "I'm cold", he said eventually. It seemed to alert him, out of some reason.

"Figured", Natasha sighed and shrugged out of her vest, getting up to give it to him. He eyed her warily. "Take it. Just let me sleep in peace."

With that, Natasha got back to her sleeping spot, ignoring everything he might have said. It was cold, without that additional piece of clothing, but no way in hell was she asking it back. Even if she was shuddering and rattling her teeth the whole night.

"Thanks", James added, sounding confused. Natasha didn't say anything, just tried to finally get some sleep.

She shot up again as soon as she realized his mistake. There was some ruffling of clothes and she didn't think, just jumped over the fire and onto James.

He threw her off immediately but lost the knife. The goddamn knife that sleepy Natasha had forgotten in her vest. She tried to punch his jaw but he easily caught her hand.

What James obviously hadn't expected was the knee that she rammed into his chest. Right between the ribs. She always had had a good aim.

"Havana, baby", Natasha hissed in his ear while he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

When James' breathing returned, he looked up and straight at Natalia standing over him with the knife in her hand, looking rather angry.

Which, of course, was an understatement.

"You promise me now", Natasha demanded, "not to touch this again. Never. Again."

"Jeez, calm down", James groaned, trying to sit up and get air back into his lungs.

"No way", Natasha replied angrily, gesticulating at him with her knife. "You. Do it. Now."

"Fine", James sighed. "Your knife. But if I accidently find your gun, I keep it."

Natasha considered that for a moment. He'd probably have to dig the whole island to come across anything. She nodded and put her knife back to her belt.

"God damn it, you have a hard knee.” James rubbed his hand over his chest and took a deep breath.

“That’s the thing about bones”, Natasha answered while sitting down on her side of the fire. “They hurt.”

“Sounds like personal experience”, James commented. Yeah. Now he wanted personal information about her. Great.

“I’ll tell you nothing as long as you don’t tell me your navy story.” Natasha shook her hair which she knew looked rather persuasive. “Besides, I just saved your life.”

James snorted of course. “Which is exactly why I don’t want to tell you anything.” He hesitated for a moment, then stared into the flames. “That obvious?”

Natasha shrugged. “I’ve known quite a few navy sailors. When I grew up.”

James looked at her expectantly. Then he said: “Fine. I’ve been in the navy. Now you tell me where you grew up.”

Natasha decided to offer an incentive as well. “Havana. One of the worse parts of it, maybe the worst.”

“Ouch.” James looked back into the flames. “Perfect place for a little girl. My family wasn’t wealthy but honorable. That’s why I went to the Navy.”

And there Natasha had him talking. “Cute. My mother was a cheap whore.”

James stared at her, of course, he didn’t believe her because of her unconcerned tone. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Not me. My mother. Listen, will you?”

He snorted. “You’re strange. As in really strange.”

Natasha would rather consider him strange, for all of his attempts to give up his life, but she left that aside. “She died of the French Disease. No, I didn’t inherit it.”

"And then you set out to find the bastard who gave it to her? Revenge?", James assumed.

"Please", Natasha snorted. "If she already died from it, he would have been dead long since then. I didn't even consider that."

"What's your goal then? Your driving force?"

Natasha shrugged. "Survival. That's enough." Now, that was very close to a lie. "Though you seem to think differently."

James got his cold eyes back. "I don't know. I... had one. Long ago. I guess."

Now Natasha said a sentence that was very much unlike her. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

James gave her an incredulous look.

Natasha dipped her head. "Not that I'm not curious..."

James snorted. "That sounded more like 'I'll find out either way'."

Natasha just had to grin. “What can I say? Your military background was quite obvious in your behavior. On top of that, you can’t exactly run away. Oh, and you talk in your sleep.” Not that she had understood anything of it, still it was no lie.

“You too.” James stared back into the flames as if they were an unpredictable mystery. “Well, it’s in a completely unintelligible language.”

Natasha barely held back a laugh. Actually, she had no idea what she said in her sleep or in what language but the thought… was amusing.

When she looked up, James was watching her intensely. “You’re unreadable”, he said, tension in his eyes. “You said you grew up among whores and criminals but you have way too good manners for that. You obviously were a pirate but it was not in the way you tried to punch me. You play the man, the lady, the gal with the dirty mouth. You play games, probably all the time, but I can’t find out what you really want for the hell of it.”

Natasha stared at him incredulously, then blinked. “Did you really just…”

James looked away, obviously nervous. “Damn. Forget it.”

“No.” Natasha blinked again. “That’s probably the longest time span anybody has ever talked to me.”

“Yeah”, James breathed. He wasn’t even listening anymore. “Forget it.”

“Really.” Natasha blinked again. She couldn’t believe it. “You analyzed my fighting style?”

“It’s…” James looked even further away, if that was even possible. “Not the jumping on your enemy part, that’s very pirate style. But… you’re not trying to fight a battle. You put on a show and then ram a dagger into their guts when nobody’s watching.”

Natasha laughed but… Fuck. She was way too revealing. Pay attention, girl. Fuck. “You sound like a writer, drowning in metaphors.”

James only laughed though. “And you sound like somebody who has something to hide.”

Damn.

“Well, I could say the same thing about you”, Natasha retorted, maybe a bit too much poison in her voice.

“I’m not trying to hide it.” James took a deep breath. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha watched him. “You lost someone.”

It was a simple observation but it instantly made him twitch. So easy. So predictable. “A friend”, she continued. “A very good friend. And you think it’s your fault.”

James’ voice was barely audible when he spoke. “No.”

“Guilt”, Natasha stated. “That’s why you hide. That’s why you want to die. Run away like a little child.” _Like I did._

“Stop it”, James hissed. She couldn’t see his face.

“It doesn’t work. It’s eating you up but you can’t let it. Because if you really wanted to die, you wouldn’t need a knife or a gun. You would simply die.”

“Stop it!”, James screamed. His eyes found her and they were smoldering with anger. “Stop! God, you don’t even realize what you’re doing. How you destroy others.”

With that, he turned around like he wanted to sleep, facing away from her.

_You don’t even realize what you’re doing…_

Natasha noticed that her hands were trembling.

_No._

She laid down but didn’t sleep.

 

* * *

 

James ignored her the following day, as good as possible. Natasha didn’t find the courage to call him out on it. She was… busy. Facing her own demons. She was feeling sick.

“I was lying to you”, she told him eventually. Cool. Not even slightly guilty.

“About what?”, James mocked. “You didn’t tell me anything at all.”

“My name”, Natasha continued undisturbed by his sarcasm. “Natalia is indeed my birth name but I picked Natasha instead. Russians do that sort of thing to their names.”

James snorted. “Really. Well, I don’t care. I will still call you Natalia. Or nothing at all.”

“Rather nothing”, Natasha guessed.

James laughed dryly. “I don’t think we have anything to talk.”

“Really?” Natasha leaned forward. “Because I think you can’t lie to yourself.”

"Do you really think that?" James looked amused, in a bitter way. "Or do you just want me to reveal more of myself?"

Natasha leaned back again, grinning. "See. It's not all that hard to guess what I want."

"By now, I have practice", James remarked. "I just don't see the purpose behind it."

"Jeez, purpose." Natasha snorted. "Next you'll be searching for the sense of life."

"I don't like people with purpose", James continued, ignoring her. "They do nasty things to others."

And there he was again, giving her bits and pieces of his life without even noticing. So Natasha just batted her eyelashes at him and asked: "You really think I'm nasty?"

"I think you're a manipulating piece of shit", James stated coldly. "I don't know about the nasty yet."

"Oh my", Natasha replied, faking offense. "I liked you better last night."

"When I was giving you everything you wanted?", James remarked sharply. "Now, I'm curious. Where does a little girl learn to manipulate men like that?"

"Talent?!" Natasha feigned indignation but dropped it soon. "Well, parts of my mother. Parts of... well, you could consider him my godfather. And the rest is observation. Practice."

"You had a godfather", James repeated like he didn't care at all. Which, of course, was only his revenge for her ways of making him talk.

Still, Natasha had to get with the program if she wanted to stay in his good graces. "His name was Ivan. He also gave me mine, while my mother was drinking herself to complete carelessness."

"So that's the Russian in your family. Not your father." Wow. He was listening to her. And even remembering what she had already told him. Impressive.

"No need to drop my complicated family story on innocent passengers, right?", Natasha replied, grabbing her knee and starting to rock back and forth. "Not like you do." Jeez, the movements weren't doing her any good.

James snorted. "No, I'm not going to say 'just ask'."

Natasha dipped her head and ignored her increasing sickness. "And if I just ask?"

"Well, you can't really expect an answer then." James obviously considered it. "But your question would convey more about you so you won't do it."

"I'm not that overcautious", Natasha replied, unsure whether it was a lie or not. There were other things on her mind, like the thought whether James noticed her pale face or not. Probably not.

"True, after all, you're a pirate", James observed. He stopped when she, instead of an answer, gagged and threw up right at his feet. Now, that didn't get past his attention.

"What a sweet surprise", he stated sarcastically, then got up to his feet to hold her hair out of her face.

Natasha couldn't even tell him to shut up because she was busy vomiting. All she could do was croak "water".

"How about I get you water", James suggested innocently, "and you tell me where you buried your gun?"

Natasha shook her head and wanted to laugh but her throat was so dry that she gagged instead. "Never."

James let go of her hair and stared at her like she had broken the rules of the universe. "Why? I taught you everything. You don't need me anymore." It contradicted his opinion about people, about her. And she fully understood it. "Why can't you just let me die?"

Even if Natasha wasn't gagging, she still couldn't have answered that question.

 

* * *

 

In the end, James got her water, all the while observing her in a disturbed way. Her behavior clearly put him off.

Nevertheless, Natasha helped herself to the fountain. More precisely, she slipped on a stone and fell into the water. So after she felt better, she hung up her clothes like on her first day.

(James insisted that she had done it on purpose, in order to distract him. Natasha just rolled her eyes at him and asked if he really minded, which he, of course, denied.)

So she was lying half naked in the sand again, thinking about why exactly she didn't care. Really. From time to time, she felt James' eyes on her body but she didn't mind. Actually, she thought about teasing him even more but then again, she thought about what he said about her being nasty and manipulating. So she let it be.

Maybe later.

Then something fell right onto her face, covering her sight. Natasha immediately dragged it off, after nearly having a heart attack. It was clothing. Her clothing. Jeez.

James stood over her, grinning widely. Bastard. Natasha set herself up. "What, you're already done ogling?"

"I think you have collected enough sand by now", James returned. Obviously, he was feeling like a gentleman now, for bringing her her clothes.

Natasha snorted. "And you couldn't just tell me that."

"Now, that wouldn't have been half as much fun", James retorted grinning.

"How funny", Natasha repeated coldly. "Now, would you turn around? I have to dress."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Natasha tugged demonstratively on her underwear. "Well, first I have to get rid of the sand..."

James was gone faster than she could finish her sentence. She only bit back a grin and did as she had said.

 

* * *

 

Natasha spent her afternoon cleaning and sharpening her knife. The sand didn't do it anything good, just like the salt water had. So it was on her to keep the weapon functional.

And it was more than a weapon, it was her best tool. Not that she had many but still, it couldn't be overestimated. Natasha had no idea how she could have survived without the knife.

"Are you dressed?", a voice behind the trees called.

Natasha looked over her clothes, then called back, grinning: "Mostly?"

James was rolling his eyes when he stepped out of behind the tree. "Funny. I need your help."

Natasha made big, big eyes which elicited the unnerved reaction from him again. "Really funny. Now, when you were with those pirates, you weren't by chance doing the look-out?"

Natasha shook her head. "Why?"

James pointed to the horizon. "Well, I was hoping you could tell me under what flag this ship sails." There was really a ship, barely visible in the distance, but it seemed to head into their direction.

"I can't see the flag", Natasha explained, shielding her eyes from the sun. "But it is coming closer."

James looked worried. He stared into the direction of the ship, biting his lip. Natasha swallowed her suggestion to draw their attention on this lonely island, in order to get saved.

"Tell me if there's anything new", James said, disappearing without another word.

 

* * *

 

"So, they landed on another island nearby", Natasha reported. "Does that calm you down?"

James looked rather more tense. He was sitting near the fountain, invisible from the beach. "How many?"

"Half a dozen", Natasha replied. Of course she had counted them, that had been one of her first instincts. "The flag is English but they don't look that way. Well-armed."

"You are good at observation", James remarked but he was still lost in thoughts. "Do they... can you tell me when they land on another island?"

"Do I look bored?", Natasha retorted sharply.

That seemed to drag James back to reality. He flashed a boyish grin, and a quite charming one. "Yes, you do. You're stranded on a lonely island, remember?"

Natasha stared at him in feigned anger, then turned around and stamped away.

"Besides, you're getting a sunburn", James called after her. She didn't even have to see his face to know he was grinning.

 Idiot.

 

* * *

 

The idiot joined her later when Natasha was sitting in the sand again. She didn't even mind anymore when it crunched between her teeth. On an island, it was the sand; on a ship, it was the salt water, in a city, it was the dust and the smell. No escape. No point in trying.

James sat next to her and looked in the same direction, not saying a word. Natasha waited a little. As soon as he relaxed and didn't expect it anymore, she stabbed him in the side.

First, James startled but then he only laughed, grabbed her wrist and pinned it down. While he continued watching the strange ship, Natasha analyzed the cold feeling of metal on her skin. It was so unnaturally smooth. And cold, despite the shining sun. Of course, he could have let go of her hand long ago but apparently, he was completely absorbed by his observations.

Natasha wondered whether, from a distance, it looked like they were holding hands.

Her thoughts were interrupted when James suddenly drew back his hand and cursed. He jumped up and dragged her along with him to the inner parts of the island.

"Jeez, are we hiding now", Natasha muttered under her breath while she tried to keep up with him. "Wait. Why are we hiding?"

James stopped, looked around and apparently decided they were in safety now or whatever. Then he sighed and looked at her. "Have you ever heard of Sir Alexander Pierce?"

Natasha suddenly felt sick again. "Yes", was all she said.

James looked really uncomfortable. "Well. I sort of stole something from him. Something valuable."

Natasha felt like blackening out. "So he's chasing you now? Because he wants it back? And that's why they shouldn't see us? Because we are in big trouble? Gods. You really couldn't hide on another lonely island than mine, couldn't you?"

"Calm down", James ordered. "And technically, it was my island first. I really couldn't have guessed that anybody else would land here as well."

Natasha rubbed her nose. "So. In short, there is a treasure somewhere on this island. They want to find it but we don't want them to find it. No way am I giving up a treasure."

When she looked up, James was smiling at her. "What?"

"You're such a pirate", he explained somewhat fondly.

"Thief", Natasha corrected. "And you can't say anything because I am not the one who stole from Pierce himself." Well, halfway true.

"Doesn't matter now." James pinched his nose just like she had. "You're right. I don't care about the treasure but I also don't want him to have it."

"Fine", Natasha agreed. "Now, where is my little treasure?" At James' look, she added: "What, you don't want it, so I might as well take it, right?"

"I buried it", James answered. "No, I'm not kidding you. Have you seen the little wooden cross on the other side of the island?"

"What?", Natasha replied with indignation. "Jeez, I thought that was a grave. What did you think why I asked you about your dead friend? That wasn't just a blind guess."

James pinched his nose again, clearly avoiding the topic. "If I died and somebody, maybe pirates, found it, they wouldn't dig there. That's what I thought."

"You really don't know pirates, do you?", Natasha commented. "Dead bodies often have jewelry or money. At least something more valuable than simple sand."

"Whatever." James looked and sounded clearly impatient. "I think I need your gun."

"No way I'm giving you my gun", Natasha immediately returned.

"I told you where I buried the treasure", James reminded her. "And it is really necessary when they find us here."

"You said you didn't care about the money", Natasha repeated.

James rolled his eyes. "Not my point!"

"It's a revolver with only one shot", Natasha explained. "It kills only one single person and no, I don't trust you with it."

James threw his head back, groaning. "God dammit, Natalia. I know I only have one shot and I'd rather kill one of those bastards than anything else. I promised you I wouldn't do anything."

"Like that would mean anything", Natasha remarked coldly.

James sighed. "Then why did you ask me to promise it in the first place?"

"Don't know", Natasha replied. "Probably part of my plan to look scary as fuck. Now, let's assume I would give you the gun, what's your plan?"

James looked around. "You could lure them in a trap."

Natasha snorted. "And then how are you going to kill four men at once?"

James frowned. "I thought you said six. Half a dozen."

"You can kill one with the gun and another one with the element of surprise", Natasha explained. "But what about the rest?"

James laughed but there was something cold about it. "Well, of course it would be easier if I had your knife."

Natasha snorted. "I'm not going to be the damsel in distress just for you to play the hero. I'm not trying to get killed." After another thought, she added: "With the knife, I could take down one or two." Playing it down. "Are you up for it?"

James couldn't answer because there were suddenly voices coming from the beach.

 

* * *

 

Well.

Fuck the gun. And fuck the element of surprise. As soon as Natasha saw the first guy, her body reacted by itself.

She ran towards them, waving her arms. "Thank god you are here! I need help."

The man who was obviously the leader eyed her suspiciously. Of course, her clothes weren't helping the matter, at least she was wearing something though. Actually, Natasha just hoped that the men didn't see James. And that they didn't recognize her but that was rather unlikely. "What sort of help do you need in a place like this?"

Natasha innocently batted her eyelashes. "Please. I think there is a good fortune buried down on the beach."

The greed flickered in the man's eyes. He carried three guns but she couldn't see a single knife. "A treasure?"

That worked as well as it always did but they were still suspicious. The whole thing would have been easier if her cover wasn't so absolutely bad. "How did you come across it, lady?", one of the other guys called out. Sword, one gun, no knife.

"I stumbled upon the edge of a chest", Natasha explained innocently. "I put a mark on the exact position but I really need help to dig it up." Poor, very poor. She still hoped they would fall for it.

Another man stepped forward, next to the leader (sword, knife, no gun). "Sir, I think that's a strange coincidence. Very strange." He turned to Natasha who looked as innocent as she could. "How did you even get on this island? Lady?"

Natasha felt like punching him in his stupid face for his hesitance before calling her lady but that didn't matter now. "Oh, it was a terrible accident", she explained eagerly. "Thank god I could save my life! Even if I had to put on these horrible clothes." She made a face as if wearing men's clothing caused her physical pain. Actually, it was quite the opposite.

The leader dipped his head and narrowed his eyes. "Have I seen you anywhere before?"

Fuck.

Luckily, James got the cue and jumped out of behind a tree, taking down two men at once. Without a weapon.

The leader panted something like "bug is born" before his neck was broken. James immediately went into defense position which saved his life against the attack of the other soldiers, even if the second man was getting back up on his feet. However, the leader would never get up again.

Natasha grabbed her knife and lunged into the fight. Of course, she would have rather stayed behind but she couldn't. Not now. Now, she pinned the one with the sword and the knife back on the ground, taking him by surprise and sticking a knife in his chest. With nothing but a gasp, he died.

There was the sound of a bullet and Natasha pressed down on the man under her- hugging dead bodies was so awkward- but there was no sting, no hit. She rolled off quickly, the blood dripping off her chest but as long as it wasn't hers, she didn't care.

James was standing in front of her, his metal arm raised. It must have taken the bullet because he didn't seem hurt. Just angry. So angry that his enemies were backing away in fear.

One guy drew his sword though, attacking, and Natasha was painfully aware that while she had at least a knife, James had nothing. Except for his metal arm.

The way he blocked the hit, taking the blade in his hand and breaking it with ease was really impressive. Completely unconcerned of anything that could happen, he grabbed the man by his throat and strangled him.

Another man raised his gun and Natasha reacted faster than she could think. Swatting his hand away was easy, the bullet hit a palm tree or whatever. She made quick work of the man, he didn't even realize what was happening. She did.

There were two of them left, Natasha had to hope James took care of the other one because a guy with a sword was attacking her. The knife was barely enough for self-defense, not against a sword. But she was faster than he was, better trained, even though he apparently had no problem with fighting against a woman (which was quite sad, to be honest).

So Natasha did her best not to get hurt which turned out quite successful. Her opponent was underestimating her due to the lack of appropriate weapon and due to the fact that she was a woman, looking rather soft. Even if her worst years laid behind her, she hadn't gone soft and probably never would.

Suddenly, there was a crash somewhere on her right, distracting her opponent. Natasha was too disciplined to lose attention, so she took advantage and swatted the sword out of her enemy's hands. Horror stood in his face but she didn't hesitate, at least that's what she told herself. She slit his throat.

Turning around, Natasha noticed that James was grabbing the gun of one of the dead bodies. Before she could stop him, he fired at something in the bushes.

Natasha let out an involuntary sigh, because oh my god she couldn't have stopped him even if she had tried, causing James to turn to her. He looked cold but when he saw her, worry climbed into his face. He closed the distance between them and pressed a hand to her left breast, as if to stop a bleeding. "You're hurt."

Natasha swatted his hand away. "Jeez, that's not my blood. I wouldn't be standing otherwise." Like the man whose body she left on the ground.

James blushed slightly and quickly buried his hand in his pocket. "Oh. Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine", Natasha replied and looked around. Five bodies she could see, the one left- oh, right. In the bushes where James had kicked him, with a hole in his chest. "That was quick."

"Yeah", James breathed, looking around as well. "Good work, I guess." His eyes fell on the blood on the knife in her hand. "You fine?"

"Very", Natasha stated coldly, cleaning the blade with her blouse. "I had a weapon, you know."

"Yeah, but you killed..." James' eyes narrowed. "Wait. You killed three guys?"

"You too", Natasha remarked. "Without a knife."

"Yeah, but..." James stopped and looked at her. "What didn't you tell me this time?"

Natasha avoided his gaze. "I was working for him. Pierce. After my mother died. I... didn't really realize what I was doing, I guess."

James stared at her. "Working as what?"

"An assassin." Natasha let out a breath. "Bodyguard. Informant. Spy. Thief. Pretty much whatever you want." Her eyes narrowed. "Wait. The leader of the group knew you. You worked for Pierce as well. He gave you the arm." A man with his money and his connections was probably capable of such a thing.

James looked away, obviously in pain. "Let's not talk about this, okay?"

"That's how you managed to steal something from him", Natasha continued. "Jeez, that's good. I should have thought of it. Now, what are we talking about actually?"

"Gold", James answered bluntly. "A chest full of gold."

Natasha gasped. "But that are at least... How did you even manage to carry that? How did you get it on this island?"

James raised his metal arm by way of answer. "I arrived with a little boat. What do you think we were burning the whole time?"

Natasha's head was spinning. "So you are saying that you got _voluntarily_ on this island? Seriously? We could have left the whole time if we hadn't burned the boat?"

James rolled his eyes. "If you want to freeze every single night. Which is soon going to be the case because we're running out of wood."

Natasha rubbed her face in her hands because she couldn't believe all of this. "Whatever. But those guys"- she pointed at some of the bodies- "came with a boat too. It must be lying down the beach." She stopped and looked up. "Wait. What about the big ship in the bay? They will be looking for these guys."

James bit his lip. "Damned. Right. Let's hope they are too scared or whatever." He nodded to the weapons on the bodies. "At least, we will be better armed this time."

Natasha considered if she had to keep all the weapons from James and how the fuck she was going to do that without making them defenseless. Of course, the result was possibly but impossible.

"We shouldn't go to the beach anymore, to keep them from seeing us", James continued, unaware of Natasha's thoughts. "Maybe we won't be able to make a fire but we have enough clothes. Let's just hope they don't come for us." He left the tactical mode and looked at her. "Sorry for the circumstances. You've done a great job at distracting them and... Yeah. Thank you."

"There's worse", Natasha replied with a lopsided grin which of course made him look at her full, full lips. Stare, to be more accurately. She knew her tricks and charms, always had.

"Jeez, just do it", she muttered and James locked eyes with her for a second before putting a hand in her neck and pulling her in for a kiss. Raw, salty lips but the kiss was tender, almost sweet. Tentative.

Natasha ran her tongue across his lips and he automatically pulled her closer, opening his mouth for her. Her left hand fisted in his hair- it was so different with long ones-, his hands were around her neck and on the small of her back, around her waist. His tongue was licking in her mouth, quite dirty and messy, more than she had thought him capable of. She kept track with him and rubbed her body against his. He groaned deeply, his body showing quite clearly what he thought of it. His right hand slipped under her blouse, the left one on her hip, but he only stroked her with his fingers and didn't try to move upwards.

Natasha had to physically keep herself from pushing further. Slowing down was hard but necessary. At the rate they were going, this wasn't going to end well. She closed her mouth, going back to the sweet nothings they had started with.

It was not that she didn't feel the itch, not that she didn't want him. Hell, she did. But she just couldn't take the risk, not under these circumstances. She wasn't even in that time of the month where her mother told her nothing would happen (which, given Natasha's existence, hadn't worked out too well either). That was absolutely not worth it, she told herself.

James noticed her hesitance, pulling back his hands regretfully. At least, he let her make her decision, not saying anything about it. And yes, it was just a pity.

Natasha pulled back hesitantly, clearing her throat and looking around. "Let's clean up this mess", she said and walked away.

 

* * *

 

They threw the bodies out on the beach facing away from the ship, planning to try and burn them later. It wasn't pretty but it was the best they could do.

They also took all of the weapons (or at least those who were still functional) and put them to the place in the middle of the island where they would sleep. The fire seemed too dangerous now, it would raise attention. They even dragged the boat out of sight so the people on the ship (if there were any left) couldn't see on which island their soldiers had disappeared.

Natasha had to try and wash the blood out of her blouse. Even her underwear was soaked with it. She turned away from James when she put it off and he looked away like every honorable man should do. They didn't talk.

Even when he threw all the clothes of the people they had killed into the boat, signalizing she should sleep in there, all he said was: "You'll at least fit in there."

It was really comfortable, not exactly soft but way better than the ground. No sand, to begin with. Natasha would sleep better than she had in ages.

She made sure James had more than enough clothing to stay warm and he took it gratefully but made no claim of the boat. As he said, he wouldn't fit in there at all. That left the cold, hard ground.

Natasha wasn't sure about it but she thought she heard him whisper "Sorry if I get us both killed" before she fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

She didn't really sleep. There was blood on her hands, so much blood, and it didn't go away when she closed her eyes. It never went away.

In her mind, Natasha was debating other things. She was lying in a boat, meaning she now had a way to leave this stupid island but she didn't even try. She should. All that she had wanted here was to survive and to get away and now she could, get back to normal. Still, something held her back. She told herself that she was afraid of the ship in the bay, afraid that Pierce might get his hands on her again. The truth was that she should flee as soon as she could because she was emotionally compromised.

It was the warmth Natasha felt in her chest when she sat up and saw James. He hadn't slept at all, just pretended, or maybe he had slept like a stone and still did, she couldn't tell. His long hair hung over his face, his eyes were still closed. He was beautiful. She had never thought of him that way before.

Compromised. Clearly.

Natasha made herself new underwear out of one linen shirt (less comfortable than the old one but less bloody) and grabbed the clothing of another. It was strange to smell the guys they had killed yesterday right on her own body.

James moved the second she finished dressing- clearly not slept at all- and first went over to stare at the ship in the bay, his back to her. She could bet he looked worried.

"Maybe they can't land because they don't have another boat", Natasha suggested hopefully. "And trust me, they won't swim."

James nodded absently minded, not taking his eyes off the ship. Great. Was it awkward now between them because of yesterday? Fuck it.

"Good morning, by the way", Natasha added. "So I was wondering what the guy yesterday said to you?" _Before you snapped his neck._

James turned around, still looking worried, his arms crossed behind his back. "Well, I was sort of lying to you."

Natasha's eyes widened purposefully. "There is no treasure at all?"

James snorted because she was still playing the pirate. "Jeez, no. You can see it with your own eyes later. I'm talking about my name. James is my name of birth but everybody used to call me Bucky. Bucky Barnes."

Natasha shot him an amused look because they had both told the same half-truths. "You do realize there is no way I'm going to call you Bucky?"

James grinned. "Whatever you want. That's what you'll do either way, so."

"So." Natasha got up and climbed out of the boat. He looked surprised when she shook his hand. "Natalia Alianovna Romanova."

"James Buchanan Barnes", he answered, lightly grinning. "Nice to meet you."

Natasha snorted, still not letting go of his hand. Just a little too long. She could do that. "Boy. You called me a manipulating piece of shit only a few days ago." Was it only yesterday? Impossible. So much had happened.

James grinned. "True, but I was only trying to hurt you. I don't think you're a piece of shit. Manipulating, yes, but it's not that bad."

Natasha considered for a moment whether that made it better or worse, finally dropping his hand, coming to the conclusion that she didn't care. "Fine. Now, do I have to keep every single weapon on this island from you because you better tell me now because I'll have to dig a really big hole for them?"

James snorted at her long sentence. "Jeez, no. Now that would be mean, getting out of the way and leaving you with my problem."

"You know, I'm not as helpless as it seems", Natasha confessed. "I mean it's sort of funny that we both pretended to be worried about six guys while we both could take them on our own.

James was clearly biting back a laugh. "I was worried. For you."

"Sap", Natasha told him, ignoring the fact that indeed, she had been a little worried for him. A little bit.

"Says the girl who has spent her whole week keeping me from dying", James returned. And she couldn't even pretend it was just because of his knowledge of the island. Damn it.

"You know", Natasha pointed behind her, "we could take the boat and the gold and go away. Somewhere where nobody knows us and what we've done. Where nobody will find us." Jeez, now she was getting sappy as well. Great. So she added: "If you are beyond the state of staying here until you die and leaving nothing but mysterious bones."

Better. Much better.

James sighed and said nothing. "I... I thought about going back. Sometime, not now. Maybe." He looked at her and used the occasion to talk about something slightly different. "What will you do?"

"I don't know yet", Natasha confessed. And since it was too much truth at once, she added: "Maybe I'll go to Nassau. There is work for people like us."

James nodded. "You can take the boat then. You should wait a few days though, just to be safe, but you don't need to wait for me. I won't go anywhere soon."

"Do I look like I would wait for anybody?", Natasha remarked. But in reality, she knew she was damned close. Nassau and the killing didn't sound all that good, going back to the pirate life as well. And James... she wanted to know more about him. About his life before this island, before Pierce. And she wanted to take the gold, go somewhere, pretend to be a wealthy couple (which wouldn't be all that wrong). Maybe marry and do all the things she didn't dare to think about because of the consequences.

God damn it. She was in big, big trouble.

It weren't only her emotions. It was also because she didn't know whether James wanted the same things. Sure, he didn't want her to get hurt but how much did that really mean? Nothing against her plans to run away together. And she had called him a sap.

James grinned. "Right. Just do what you always do."

Which was exactly what Natasha didn't want.

Okay. Get a clear head. James had said he wanted to go back sometime. Natasha didn't want to go back. Did she want to go back to his home? That would mean she had to be honest. They probably wouldn't accept her if she was. So no.

"Will do", Natasha replied, walking away to the fountain.

 

* * *

 

James kissed her again when she was sitting against a palm tree, waiting for the sun to go down. He looked into her eyes before he did it. Maybe she should have stopped him. She didn't.

It was so classical, with the sunset and the beach and his hand stroking hers. Natasha didn't think about it. She didn't think about leaving or staying. She just didn't think at all.

They both had no idea what they were going to do after all of this but right now, it didn't really matter. Just sitting there and kissing. There was wind and sand and lips. No tongue for now. It was quite nice, actually.

They stayed there afterwards, lying in the sand and doing nothing. James looked at the sea while Natasha ran her fingers across his metal arm. She hadn't got used to the feeling yet. Maybe she would. Maybe she wouldn't.

"I have nobody to come back to", Natasha said eventually. "Nobody waiting for me."

"Figured", James only said. She turned in his arms to get a better look at his face and asked: "What about you?"

He couldn't really avoid the question after what she said, so he only avoided her gaze. "Well. You know I had a good friend back in the navy. But I don't think he'd like to see me now. After everything."

Natasha nodded sympathetically and laid her head on his chest. Out of some reason, his heartbeat surprised her. "Maybe he would. You don't know."

James breathed heavily, his heartbeat picking up a bit. "Probably he would. But... he's too good for me. Too righteous. Too pure."

Natasha snorted softly. "Well, you won't get that issue with me."

"I still don't think you're that bad", James confessed, running his hand through her red hair.

"That's the trick", Natasha replied coldly. "Pretending. I'm good at that." After a while, she added: "You know, I still think we should take the gold, buy a big house with many servants somewhere, pretend to be a young, married couple and spent the rest of our lives chilling in the sun."

James snorted but grinned. "You really want to play the married couple."

Natasha grinned and moved to straddle him. "Why not, that would be fun."

James smiled while she kissed him. "I don't think they would swallow it that easy. Just arriving there with the gold and nothing else."

"As I said, I'm good at that", Natasha reminded him with a teasing grin. She took his metal fingers between her hands and added: "You would have to wear gloves of course."

 

James threw a pointed look at her clothes. "I think you would have to dress slightly differently too."

"Maybe", Natasha agreed, rocking slightly in his lap. "Does that mean yes?"

Instead of answering, James kissed her, pulling her slightly closer to him. "You are the most romantic unromantic person I've ever met." Then he looked into her eyes and added: "I don't want to pretend."

Natasha didn't think about what that could possibly mean and ignored the warmth that filled her. Really. She didn't.

They slept next to each other that night.

 

* * *

 

The ship was gone the next morning. James let out a long sigh.

Natasha bit her lip instead because that meant she had to decide soon. There was no formal reason to stay anymore. Everything she did from now on meant something. She wasn't happy about that.

Still, some days were a reasonable time to make sure everything was alright. To take out any possible surprises. All those stuff.

Deciding what she really wanted was secretly on the top of Natasha's list. She had no illusions that James would come with her and she wasn't going to persuade him. That left her, here or somewhere else or whatever. None of the possibilities were beautiful.

Still, Natasha didn't protest when James kissed her after waking up, morning breath or not. She also didn't drag him on top of her (fine, she had considered it), only kissed back. The little in betweens.

Around noon, James arrived dragging a chest behind him. Natasha seriously had to think several moments before she realized it had to be the one with the gold in it, the one causing all the interference. She had completely forgotten about it.

James broke the lock and opened the chest. Natasha stared, first at the content, then at him. "That's way too much."

That got her a grin because she had fallen out of her pirate role. "You can take everything you want. It's not like I could use it anyway."

"Boy", Natasha muttered to herself, turning her gaze back to the gleaming metal. "You could live from this for at least 50 years. And by living I mean hardcore living."

"That's not why I took it", James replied seriously. She looked at him and understood because it was just the same for her. She was just the same. For a moment, she wondered how she could ever leave this man who was a mirror of herself.

Natasha pushed that thought away and traced the coins with her fingers, muttering to herself. "Why are you so fascinated with it?", James asked her. "It holds no worth here."

"Not here", Natasha agreed. "But I come from a world where you can buy everything with money. If you don't have money, you need to use your wit. No errors allowed. This is like... free passage. Safety. Freedom. Redemption for all errors you might ever commit."

James frowned. "I don't think you can buy redemption with money."

Natasha looked up. "I didn't take you for a religious man."

James took a deep breath. "I don't know. It just seems too easy."

"You're right." Natasha grinned and walked over to him slowly, getting on her toes and pressing her lips quickly to his. "But it's fine if I do that, right?"

James didn't let her get away with it, of course, instead grabbing her waist and pulling her flush against him. His tongue was licking over her lips before she could even finish grinning. She made herself pliable and he pushed into her mouth, growling. His fingers were digging into her waist and she put her hands around his neck to pull him even closer. It resulted in him pulling back for air before kissing his way along her jaw to her left ear. Natasha sighed.

She sighed even more when James nuzzled her neck, rocking his hips slowly against her. It felt good, way too good. The heat was already pooling in her stomach. She bit his earlobe in order to stop thinking, moving down to his shoulder, the seam between metal and flesh, always carefully observing his tense reactions. His hands had moved to the small of her back, countering the jerking of his hips.

Then James got his lips back on her, her neck, her pulse, her shoulder, gently pushing the cloth out of his way. Natasha threw her head back, whining softly. "James. James, I can't."

"It's fine", he whispered against her skin, slowly moving back from her shoulder, tugging her clothing back in place. Then he dragged his lips over her neck, spreading goose bumps where his breath met her skin.

"James", Natasha murmured, trying to get her head straight. Her voice was already slightly shaking. "You're not helping the matter."

She felt his grin more than she saw it. Of course, she regretted her words as soon as James pulled back and looked at her. "I see."

She planted a kiss on his lips to keep him from teasing her further. In return, she started massaging his neck with one hand, cupping his cheek with the other. James relaxed and pressed against her hand. She made use of his move to nuzzle under his jaw, taking in his smell. Why it felt so important to her she couldn't tell.

He obviously liked it, feeling at ease. His lips planted kisses in her hair, his hand slid feather-lightly over the swell of her ass, then down her front to cup her through her clothing. "But it's fine if I do that, right?"

Natasha pressed against his hand by way of answer. It felt good, the friction, but it was nowhere near enough. Maybe she should have asked him to do it right, without proxy, or maybe she should have told him to let it be. She was afraid he wouldn't want to get his hands dirty or maybe he would get carried away. She didn't want to have to reject him again.

So they continued their pleasant-but-not-enough game, Natasha gripping his shoulder, pulling back when James hissed. Damned, she had completely forgotten.

He pulled his hand back shortly afterwards but they kissed and everything was fine.

 

* * *

 

Natasha dreamt of him that night. Or maybe it wasn't a dream. She wasn't sure.

She thought she had woken up because James was kissing her belly. Usually, she was way more alert and that shouldn't have happened. Maybe it was a dream.

She had told him again that no, she couldn't (even if she wanted). He had agreed with her and said that he already felt enough guilt and didn’t need to add her to that list. But, he had continued then, he thought they could do that differently, if she wanted to try.

It had made Natasha curious and she had decided to trust him. He had pushed up her blouse and underwear, looking quite pleased with how full her breasts were when she didn’t press them down in order to look like a man. His stubble had scratched over her skin while he had sucked a little on them.

Natasha had relaxed and folded her hands under her head. She had liked the touch until her mind kicked back in and had asked what the fuck she was doing here. She had almost finished her polite excuse to get rid of him when James had told her that she was overthinking.

He had a point somewhere there. James’ mouth had gone slowly down over her body and he had looked up when arriving around her navel, questioning. Natasha had gotten even more curious and had propped herself up on her elbows to get a better view. He had grinned with his teeth against her skin before pushing the rest of her clothing down.

Natasha had been fine with it because he had still been fully dressed. And it was not like she had anything to hide from his appraising eyes.

She had gasped the second she had felt his tongue against _something_ , something very sensitive, a bundle of nerves she never had a word for. The slight touch already had her writhing. She had been close to asking for more, again, but she had gotten it either way.

It had been amazing, to say the least. James’ mouth in places where she never would have imagined, leaving her breathless and gasping and moaning. Never had she heard of men doing something like this, probably because it was only a dream and only her hungry imagination. But so _good._

The problem was, when she woke up in the morning, Natasha couldn’t tell whether it had been real or not. There was nothing to go by. Sure, she felt wet thinking about it but that didn’t have to mean anything.

Maybe she should have asked James but if this had grown completely in her head, it’d be very embarrassing and he might be offended. So Natasha decided to search her body for hints when he didn’t look.

By the time she went to wash herself, she was already shaking with well-hidden curiosity. At the same time, she feared finding out that nothing of it was real, the disappointment. Of course, that didn't stop her from looking.

Natasha didn't find anything, not a scratch. That didn't have to mean anything though, she told herself, James had been very gentle.

 _Sap,_ she called herself while getting up. He may not have scratched her but she vaguely remembered sinking her nails into his shoulder while his tongue slid into her core. And if she didn't lose concentration now, she might even get to check his body for those marks.

So, Natasha ended up sneaking up on him while he was redressing. She was silent and discreet and hidden and James had his back to her. And it was quite a nice back, with the muscles and the skin and the shoulders. Except for the scars on his left maybe.

Distracting. However, he didn't display any signs of female nails working on his body. Either they were already healed or they had never been there in the first place, meaning... Natasha carefully let out a breath.

"Are you spying on me?", James' amused voice asked. Natasha froze in place. He shouldn't have heard that, it was impossible. She peaked out behind the tree and yes, he was grinning at her. Still shirtless.

"That wouldn't make any sense", she retorted sharply.

"If I remember correctly", James reminded while pulling the shirt over his head, "you didn't see me that way yet. I wasn't running around like you were."

Natasha's heart sank a little at that because had she been right about last night, he would have said that he had seen even more of her. Well. Whatever.

 

* * *

 

She had teased him a little about why she would want to see that. His smug grin had never faltered of course. The bastard just knew he was right.

Now, Natasha was sitting on the beach alone. James was splitting coconuts or something like that, at least he wasn't here. She could sit in the sand, think about how she should be gone long since and watch the ships on the horizon. They got bigger and smaller, one after another.

One of them kept growing and growing. Was it heading to their island? Why would it be? Natasha wondered whether she should give a sign, for them to come and save her (meaning taking her where she wanted). Jeez, it was a big ship. And it looked sort of familiar.

Cursing, Natasha jumped up. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she wanted nothing but to run away but first, she had to be sure. She waited until she could see the flag.

It was a red skull with many tentacles on a black ground.

Natasha immediately ran to get James. Hydra approached them, the biggest ship of Sir Alexander Pierce. The flag was unambiguous. She spit in the sand only thinking about it.

(Actually, the hydra was a monster with many heads, not arms. That one on the flag looked more like an octopus. However.)

James looked at her questioning when she arrived, slightly out of breath. "Pierce", was all she said.

James immediately dropped everything he had in his hands. He had the wild, scared look of a cornered animal. "I thought they had left."

"Sure they have", Natasha replied, "after losing six men and knowing exactly where! Gods." She had been so stupid. With her overthinking and her childish distractions, she had not noticed the imminent threat. So obvious. They should have left long ago.

James was more tense than ever. "How many?"

Natasha laughed hysterically. "How many? The Hydra is coming our way!" It was clear what that meant for them. 200, if not 300 men on a heavily armed ship. And all they had was this sweet little boat. "Fuck it. If we leave on the other side of the island, there's a chance they search here first and we can get out of their reach."

Of course, James had this hard and stubborn face that instantly had her boiling with anger. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh yes, you are!", Natasha snapped. "You don't get it, do you? None of this is about the gold. I've seen Pierce' finances, he can make that much in a week. He's looking for something that's not replaceable, and since he can't know that I'm here, he's obviously searching for you!"

James' face froze. "You sure?"

Natasha snorted and made her way to the boat, throwing everything in. "Trust me, I know Pierce. Better than anybody else."

"Natalia." James had grabbed her wrist and Natasha was so furious that she almost threw him right on the ground. "We can't just leave. With that boat, we won't make it further than a few miles, never to Caracas. Where we can't even go because they're coming out of that direction. We are a hundred times slower than they are. They will get us."

Natasha snorted while trying to get her wrist free but his metal hand was adamant. She knew it, every word he said, she had every little doubt screaming in her head. But this was the only way and as long as there was only the slightest chance, she would take it.

"You know it, Natalia", James insisted, still gripping her wrist. Had she called him gentle? Bullshit. "We can't be free until they are dead."

Natasha stopped dead track and stared him in the eyes. "Are you crazy? You want to attack one of the best-armed ships in these waters and do what, kill a few hundred men on your own?"

"There's only one man that we'll have to kill", James returned coldly.

Natasha bit her lip. "He will be on the ship. I've been on... similar missions. He wants to be close so he can decide fast." The plan was very appealing to her. But actually, she should come back to reality. "But he will be heavily guarded. He will know that you will come for him. And he will know what you can do and what not."

James grinned and released her wrist. "Well, I got you for the element of surprise, right?"

Only the thought of getting near Pierce himself... Natasha felt her toenails curl. But did she really have a choice? "Am I assuming right that you won't help me get the boat to the other beach?"

James grinned again. "Now, that would be suicide. I've got to return a favor."

Actually, her chances without him weren't all that bad, at least about getting away. She'd probably still drown because the boat was made only for landing. And since she'd never be able to drag the boat anywhere without his help, there were more important issues.

"Fine", Natasha sighed. "So, I know that Pierce' cabin is three floors below deck on the front. There are six guards right in front of the door, it has no windows and no other access possibilities. He stays there all the time. If there's any problem, the others will have to come to him."

James smiled fondly at her and pulled at her waist to kiss her. "Now, why haven't you killed him yet?"

"Because I'm not mad", she retorted, refusing the kiss. Yes, she was a little angry with him, and she was also concentrating on surviving this mess. "Now that he's on a hunt, there will be more guards in the rooms leading to his. Yes, rooms, not corridors. They made sure they could make full use of their advantage in numbers. How dangerous does he think you are?"

James' face was blank. "Very."

Natasha stared at him for a moment. This coldness... "Well, let's hope he's right. Because in that case, the whole lower deck will be guarded."

James searched her face for something. "You've really done this before, haven't you?"

Natasha let out a breath. "Yeah. Ever heard of the Red Guardian? Wasn't easy getting him back after he went rogue."

"The Red Guardian", James repeated carefully, "and the... Wait. _You_ are the Black Widow. Why am I still alive?"

"Funny, isn't it?" Natasha looked away. "So what's your second name?"

James looked confused. "I thought your second name was Alianovna."

It was so much easier talking to people who didn't remember her every word. "That's my father's name. Or my supposed-father's name. And the second name thing was sort of a joke." And she was way too tense. "You're really _him,_ aren't you?"

Still confusion. "The ghost", Natasha explained unnerved by her own nervousness. "The assassin. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Now it was James to breathe out and look away. "Me, I guess."

Natasha felt her body tense immediately, ready to run or fight. She willed it all down and nodded. "Here's the thing. The gunpowder is also stored on the front side. If it explodes, Pierce' room is not damaged but the three ones in front of it are destroyed, blocking the exit. For this case, a boat is stored in his room so he can leave the ship with only two guards."

James nodded full of mischief. "Was that the plan of the Red Guardian?"

Natasha shook her head. "My plan. Until I discovered that disappearing would be way easier." It had been, for a woman with her skills. "Since we are two, I can infiltrate the ship and you can take care of Pierce. I know the guards, Rumlow and Rollins, you could take them without issue."

"I don't want you to go on the ship", James said, determined.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Jeez, I don't need protection. Not even yours. I'm good at infiltration and I know the ship."

"That's not the problem", James returned. "Maybe you can break into the ship and maybe you can even get out. But we have two main advantages. Pierce doesn't know you're here and he doesn't know what you just told me."

"Which is exactly why I should go! You'll just blow everything including yourself up!" A shiver raced over Natasha's spine. "Wait. That's what you want. Sink the ship with everybody on it. Get over with everything. That's what you wanted from the very beginning."

James' face was cold. "No."

Natasha sucked in a harsh breath. " _Don't_ lie to me, Barnes. That's way over your head."

"I'm not lying to you", James replied angrily. "Dammit, can you _once,_ just _once,_ trust me?"

Natasha bit back her answer about how she _had_ trusted him, fully. Because maybe she hadn't. "I have to make sure", she stated blankly. "I know how to cause the explosion and how to get out of it. You don't. It's really that simple."

James snorted. "Gosh, you're really..." At least he didn't finish that sentence. It wouldn't have been pleasant.

"Good at my job", Natasha completed blatantly. "But I need you to come with me either way." _To keep an eye on you._ "A little distraction would be helpful."

James looked at her in a way that would probably be considered impolite until he conceded: "Fine. How do we get on the ship?"

 

* * *

 

They had made it already under deck before they were noticed. "Infiltrating ships is somewhat more fun when you know the floor plans", James whispered while they were hiding behind a column.

Natasha nodded absently while observing the guys who came ever closer. "It's helpful. Now, could you please kill those people?"

James grinned before he jumped out of the safety they had, taking their opponents by surprise and killing each of them, avoiding every bullet they had. Natasha was about to applaud when she noticed, still hidden behind the column, a man getting down the staircase who would immediately see her. She planted a bullet in his head as soon as he did, then ran around the column in order to hide from the rest that was coming.

It lead to her completely crashing into James who was leaning against the other side of the column. It could have been romantic if there weren't these gun shots hitting everything around them.

James pulled Natasha flush against him, which was of course only for her safety. "You know what, I really missed that", he explained with a fat grin.

Natasha snorted. "Getting hit is no fun."

James looked her over worriedly. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Jeez, no." Natasha threw a glance around the column, pressing slightly closer to James. "Five guys. Let me do that."

James looked curious and so she called out: "Hey lads!"

There was silence immediately, the guns were lowered. _This, my friends, is the real power of a female voice,_ Natasha thought while she nailed two guys on the floor, swirling around to take the rest down. One with a knife to his throat, one with her garrote, one with an evil stare (and a knife to his back as soon as he ran away).

James, leaning against the wall and watching the scene, applauded silently. Natasha grinned back.

 

* * *

 

"Do you think they have found the bodies yet?", James asked when they were strolling through the third floor under deck.

"They will within the next five minutes", Natasha replied coolly. "That part of the ship is not that guarded. However, this looks good, doesn't it?"

James stopped and looked around to find out what she was talking about. "You can hide here as soon as the guards find you", Natasha explained. "While I go down and set up the explosion, you go and try to get to Pierce' room."

James shifted from one foot to another. "I guess I shouldn't get into the rooms that the explosion will reach?"

"Doesn't matter", Natasha replied. "I will come back and get you. We will leave the ship before it explodes." She was really proud of her plan. "Now, don't get shot, will you?"

James nodded seriously and she kissed him lightly before she left.

 

* * *

 

Natasha could hardly hear the fighting from where the gunpowder was stored but she noticed how few people were here. Good for them. Everyone in her way was murdered.

The good news (or bad news, depending on the point of view) were that there were way more explosives than she had thought. Setting them up and shooting the poor idiot who came to look, she thought that the explosion would rip the ship apart. Even more important to leave before that happened. She let the candle a little longer than she normally would.

Getting up, Natasha fought her way back to where James would be. She had to get him out of the danger zone, meaning the whole ship. Not to forget herself. And she had to be quick.

The floor was a mess. Walls were broken down, furniture spread all over the place, blood everywhere she looked. Bodies. Death.

Natasha felt sick because she had seen all of that before.

The eye of the storm was a man with a cold face and a metal arm. He was killing ruthlessly, murdering everybody who came within reach. Natasha didn't dare.

There was blood on his body and ice in his gaze, death in his hands and hell in his head.

"James!", Natasha cried out. "We need to leave!"

The man turned around and his expression melted. The cold disappeared and was replaced by something softer. _Weakness,_ a voice in Natasha's head commented.

That was when the bullet hit him.

 

* * *

 

At this point, Natasha's memory became a bit fuzzy. She had killed the shooter, she was sure about that, but then...

She thinks she searched James for the wound and didn't find it but there was too much blood. Maybe she was crying. Maybe not.

She probably was about to check his weak pulse when she heard voices and footsteps. It hit her in a second that she needed to leave. Leave him. Now.

She thinks that she didn't have any weapons anymore or simply not enough but she is sure that she tried to shoot James before she left. Before they found him. Before they tortured him and made him into whatever they wanted. An act of mercy.

Only to find out she had no ammunition.

She kissed him and she knew he was still breathing but she just couldn't do it, couldn't kill him with her own hands. No mercy. Not for her. Not for him. There never was.

So she left, left him to die, left the ship to explode and everybody on it to go to hell where they belonged. She didn't look back. Not a second. She knows that she cried.

She knew that she would carry her own piece of hell with her. Forever. In her heart where it would rip her apart from the inside.

 


End file.
